


Brief Reprieve

by tjs_whatnot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus looks at these student soldiers, at this Dumbledore's Army, and remembers when they had been children...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brief Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elennare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elennare/gifts).



Remus slid the portrait back over the entrance to the tunnel at the Hog’s Head and leaned against it for a moment. Ariana didn’t seem to mind, in fact, for a split second he got the distinct feeling that he was being enveloped in the painting’s embrace.

Visiting his old school – the only place he’d ever felt truly at home, truly safe – always hurt. To see what it had become, what was happening to it was gut wrenching, but the part that hurt the most, though he always volunteered for the opportunity, was seeing what it was doing to the students he’d once had in his care. This was supposed to be their haven as well, and that it was instead turned into some sort of medieval torture chamber, and there was no way to get them out, tore him apart to his very marrow. 

Aberforth had a glass of his last bottle of Ogden’s sitting at the bar, waiting for Remus. He should send his Patronus to headquarters; file his report, as it were. But, he’d never needed a drink more and it could wait a few moments more.

He sat down at the bar and raised his glass to Aberforth who leaned against the counter behind him. “To victory.”

Aberforth grunted, put the bottle on the bar and grumbled out of the room.

Remus understood Aberforth’s pessimism. He felt it too at times. But he swallowed it. Especially here, with the kids, these student soldiers, who needed him to believe that it was all going to work out, that what they were going through was temporary and somehow worth it.

 _Student Soldiers._ He shuddered.

He had looked at these young men and women, tried to look past the children they were when he had met them, and to the almost adults that they were now. It was hard not to remember.

Ginny had been the one to see him off to the secret tunnel. She had hugged him tight, wishing him a happy Christmas as that were something that were at all possible. He looked at her, really saw her. Sixteen and she already had the look of the war-widow in the corner of her eyes and he could see the twelve year-old that he’d met in his classroom. She had another pain in her eyes then, the haunted look of the tiny bit of her soul that she’d lost to Voldemort, the tiny bit of him she’d retained.

It had filled him with his first bit of professor-pride when he had made her smile back then, made her laugh.

It had been early in her second year and they had been studying vampires, how to detect them, how to defend against them. It had mostly been theory. The year before they had… well they had gotten a lot of erroneous information, _Voyage with Vampires_ my arse, Remus thought with a chuckle. He had to spend a great bit of time in the beginning fixing the mistakes of the year before. Remus hated theory, and he’d hated it more as a student himself. So, to entertain himself and them, he had gotten into a bit of role-playing.

He had slicked his hair back, raised his cape to cover his nose and swooped around the room in his most ridiculous Dracula impression.

“I vant to drink your blooooood!”

Most of the room laughed. He targeted the ones who hadn’t. “I am a Child of the Night. The Prince of Darkness. The Immortal Undead. I am Bat Man.”

The rest of the room giggled too. All but Ginny. His toughest case. He swooped down in front of her. Then swayed back, holding his robe-clutched hand over his eyes, over dramatically. “No! No! The light of the sun! I’m _meeeelting_!” He fell to the floor, twitching.

He only stopped when he heard what he was after. Ginny, starting slow, her hand covering her mouth, laughing. He looked up and saw her shoulders shake, the shine in her eyes and something blooming in her. Or so he liked to imagine. He remembered that laugh now and it warmed him. The Ogden’s helped too.

~oOo~

The painting swung open again. Neville scrambled out. He seemed to lean against the portrait like Remus had done before him.

Remus slid the bottle down the bar to where Neville was heading. He looked like he needed it even more than Remus had.

Neville raised the bottle. “Happy Christmas,” he said before taking a long swallow.

Every few weeks someone from the Order would come to rendezvous with Dumbledore’s Army—what these students in the resistance called themselves — to exchange news and keep each other informed of goings on in the school and out of it. Neville usually came after for more in-depth questions and answers. He understood just how young and scared some of his soldiers were, knew more of the dangers and risks that he’d rather not share with everyone.

“Any more disappearances?” Remus asked.

“Mark Jacobs from Hufflepuff, two third-years from Ravenclaw.” They both took another swallow of their drinks. “What about you? What’s _really_ happening out there?”

Remus ran his fingers through his head aggressively. “Nothing.”

It was nerve-wracking how little was going on. One got the sense that things were being geared up for, that something horrendous was on the horizon and they were just biding their time, both sides, waiting. Remus had tried to convince himself that they weren’t waiting for Harry, that he wasn’t their side’s _only_ hope. But every day with no news from him and no real goal in the horizon except simple survival, and it was hard to stop.

“Nothing’s good,” Neville said, sounding almost like he believed it.

“ _Nothing_ is driving me crazy.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I could go for a little more nothing.”

Remus looked at Neville closer and swallowed, shamed. Fresh wounds on his face and hands, scorch marks on his sweater and trousers, and here he is complaining about a lack of action.

“Has Headmaster Snape started participating in the torturing of students or still only allowing it?” Remus asked with a sneer, afraid of the answer.

“Fucking Snape!” Neville snarled. He raised the bottle back to his lips for a long pull, as if trying to wash the taste of that foul name out of his mouth.

Remus watched Neville wipe his mouth with the filthy sleeve of his sweater and marveled that this had ever been the boy whose greatest fear had been Professor Snape.

He thought back to that day in class with a mixture of amusement and guilt. It had been one of his first mistakes of being a professor. He should have never flung thirteen year old children into their collective worst fears without a little bit of warning, a bit of prep. That had been really, really stupid.

He knew that. He also knew why he had done it. Even back then, there had been a sense of darkness rising, of old evils returning. He was determined to make sure his pupils were as prepared as they could be. There was no more time for theory, for hypotheticals.

But still…

“Neville, you okay?” he had asked. Coming out of the classroom after class, long after all the students had left, all giggling about the things they had turned their fears into, he had been surprised to find Neville still lingering in the hall.

“Oh yeah, hello,” Neville had stuttered, as if caught off guard.

Remus had looked around. “Were you waiting for me? Or were you waiting for something else?”

“Oh, ah… well, I was wondering…” Neville had stopped and looked around as well.

“Would you like to come to my office?”

“Yes, please.”

“Chocolate?” Remus had asked when they were seated.

“No thank you, sir.”

“Alright. What can I do for you Mr. Longbottom?”

Neville had looked nervous again. “Well… I wanted to ask. The Riddikulus…”

“Yes?”

“Well, that gets rid of Boggarts, and those are creatures that show you your worst fear…”

“That’s right.”

“Is there perhaps… a spell or something… something to not make you fear that thing to begin with?” Neville had finally got out, the last part coming in a rush.

“Are you _that_ afraid of Professor Snape?” Remus had asked, trying to sound light hearted, instead of concerned. “Has he ever done anything to you? Has he hurt you?”

“What? No! I mean, he’s horrible, terrifying, and mean, but that’s not why.”

“No?”

“Well, it’s just… well, you were in the Order right?”

“Right,” Remus had said slowly, wondering what this had to do with Snape.

“You know what the Death Eaters did, what they were capable of… my mum and dad…”

“Oh, Neville,” Remus had said, feeling like the biggest arse. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. And I know the war is over and people’s allegiances have changed and we shouldn’t hold things against people who are trying… trying to redeem themselves… or whatever… Professor Dumbledore has told me, and I believe him… only…”

“It’s perfectly reasonable.” Remus hadn’t known what else to say. He hated being inept.

“I know. I don’t want to hold it against him. But, well, you can change all you want, but you can’t expect people to… to just forget all the horrible things you did… that your allies did, can you?”

“No you can’t. Shouldn’t have to. I should have--”

“It’s okay, sir. It was an important lesson.”

“I know. But, I should have thought more, did it differently.”

Neville had shrugged.

“Still, that image of Professor Snape in your Gran’s clothes is going to stay with you all for years to come.”

They had both laughed.

Even now, they both grinned at the memory.

“Fucking Snape, indeed,” Remus said, raising his glass.

They drank quietly for a bit longer before Neville stood up. “Thanks Professor, for coming. Luna should be here in a minute; thanks again for agreeing to accompany her home for the holidays. I’m sure the train will be safe, but you can never be too sure.”

“No trouble at all, but Neville, _please_ , call me Remus. I’ve stopped being your teacher long ago.”

“Right, sorry. Remus,” he tried it out.

~oOo~

It was only a few minutes after Neville crawled out of the room, that Luna Lovegood crawled in. Remus smiled despite everything. Luna always put a smile on his face, always had.

“Remus,” Luna said, coming to him and taking him into her arms for a quick hug before releasing him and putting her hands on both sides of his face. “How are you?”

Luna had never had Neville’s problem of treating Remus like a contemporary now that they were no longer teacher and student. But, then again, Luna had never been an ordinary student.

He looked down at her, her hands still on his face filling him with the warmth, understanding and something else that he’d always been awed by—protection—and sighed at his memories of her. Their first meeting had started pretty much exactly like this greeting had, only then, Luna was 12 and Professor Lupin had a dark secret threatening him.

Hermione always liked to pride herself on being the first to put the pieces together on his being a werewolf, and he had always let her. But, in actuality, it had been a Ravenclaw always seemed to see what everyone else overlooked, to reason what others dismissed as absurd.

It had been the night of his first transformation back at Hogwarts. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon and he was just about to leave his office for the Shrieking Shack. Professor Dumbledore and Snape had just been there to deliver the Wolfsbane and to gauge its effects. Remus could already feel its ingredients working through his bloodstream, gathering their strengths and defenses. He was both giddy and terrified as he paced the room.

Then there had been a soft knock on the door. Remus had panicked, but still being enough of himself to put politeness above all else, he went to the door and opened it.

“Ms. Lovegood,” Remus said, looking over her shoulder frantic for some explanation. “What can I…”

He stopped. His skin was tingling and he scratched at his arms, safely concealed beneath his robes. He could feel the follicles begin to open, the course hairs began to surface.

“I’m sorry, but I was just on my way out. I’m afraid I can’t…”

Luna came and stood before him. “I know.”

“Know what?” Remus asked with a shudder. Her standing right in front of him, and he could smell the soap she used, the toothpaste she brushed her teeth with and something else that he couldn’t place but it smelled delicious. He needed to get away.

“Know why you have to go. Know where you’re going.”

Remus staggered back. Partly to get away from the smell of her, the taste of her, partly because he was losing his balance. “I can’t…”

She came to again stand in front of him and handed him something smooth and warm before taking his face in her hands.

So taken back by this act, Remus was unable to focus on anything else. All he could see was the strange silver flecks in her overly large eyes, all he could feel was the warmth and strength of her dainty fingers on his face that matched the sensation from the thing she had given him. When he finally tore his eyes from hers, he looked down at the stone that matched her blue-grey eyes and seemed to glow faintly from its center.

“What…?

“It’s a Luna.”

“A what?” He was having a hard time hearing her voice from the sound of his blood rushing in his veins. His vision was getting blurred, the colors fading.

“It’s a moonstone. It will help.”

He was dumbfounded and for a moment that emotion overrode all others. But Luna reached for his hand and tugged on it. “Professor, you really need to get out of the castle now. Just put this here,” She took the stone and reached into his robes to the shirt beneath it, slipping the rock into the pocket. He felt its warmth through the cloth straight to his rapidly beating heart.

“But, how…?”

“Just go.”

He swallowed his curiosity and did as instructed. He had already stayed too long and any more delay could be dangerous. There were still enough of his senses and his morality left to comprehend and he rushed through the secret passageways to his hovel away from home.

Later, when the moon had waned and he again regained his faculties, he marveled at how that transformation had been so much more manageable than any he’d ever experienced before. And though he’d never be able to know if it had been the remedy of the potion, the mysticism of the moonstone or the magic that was Luna Lovegood, they were all tied into his image of immense aid. He just knew that in the years that followed he never went a transformation without a sip of the elixir, the stone at his breast or the image of Luna standing before him, nothing but calm in her glance and peace in her touch.

As they made their treacherous way to Hogsmeade Station to catch the holiday train home, Remus holding his breath through the wards--praying his Disillusionment Charm was still strong enough to get through without detection--touched the surface of the moonstone that he now carried around his neck at all times. He desperately wished there was some way he could return the favor, something he could give to her in this time of terrible fear and upheaval.

They found an empty compartment easily. A lot of families were finding other ways to get to and from Hogwarts. Remus had contemplated all the other means, but Luna had confided to him last visit that she’d prefer the train as she’d need a little time to decompress from school to home life without her father’s concern flitting around her distractedly. He and Xenophilius had both agreed that this would be safe and he would wait for her outside of Kings Cross.

Remus checked the passageways many times before he contemplated letting his façade as Hogwarts student go and becoming himself again.

“You don’t have to change for me,” Luna said. “I can see you through your disguise.”

Remus smiled fondly. If anyone could, it would be her. “It wouldn’t seem strange you traveling with a random Gryffindor that no one would be able to name if it came to it?”

Luna shrugged. “I can’t imagine it would matter. Though, perhaps you should transform your robes to mark you a Slytherin? Then you wouldn’t be questioned. I’d be your prisoner.”

Remus shivered. “Maybe I’ll just try warding the door to the compartment so that if someone comes they’ll be bewitched to remember already checking and will move along.”

Luna laughed. “Best idea.”

He performed the spells before letting his Disullisonment Charm slide off him like a snake shedding its skin. He shook as if he could physically speed its removal. He hated being someone else. Almost as much as he used to hate being himself.

“So, how are you Remus?”

He sat back down and looked at her with a smile. “I’m good. As good as I can be.”

“I’m assuming Tonks hasn’t had the baby yet? I imagine that would have been visible news that you’d wear on your face.”

He laughed. “Not yet. Soon though.”

“You have a name picked out?”

“If it’s a boy will name him after her father, Ted. If it’s a girl? I don’t know. I have always liked the name Lily, but I haven’t really brought it up to Tonks yet.”

“Yeah, I imagine it might be a hard sell to convince your wife to name your daughter after an old girlfriend that you have spent years putting on a pedestal.”

“What? We never…” he looked at her scandalized and stopped. How _did_ she do that. “She was never my _girlfriend_ , not really. But you’re right; she has held a very high spot in my estimations.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus just had to ask. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know things. Like what Lily meant to me, like that I was a werewolf all those years ago?”

She shrugged. “The Lily thing was just a hunch based on what I knew of you, of her and of the rest of your friends. The werewolf thing? My uncle Aldophous. He was one. I saw the signs in you that I’d grown up observing in him: the scars, the fear, the loneliness. I wanted to help you like my mother helped her brother.”

“You did. So much. I’m sorry I never told you that.”

She had been looking out the window but turned to him and he marveled once again at her eyes and their ability to soothe him. He wished he could do something for her, something to give her a bit of peace through the war. He reached into his shirt and grasped the warmed stone that hung there. It sent its usual jolt of serenity, but there was also a tender bit of sorrow, as if it knew before Remus did what he was going to do. He pulled it over his head with a sigh.

“Luna, I want to thank you. For your kindness, for your immeasurable comfort. You, and this,” he rubbed his thumb along the surface of the stone, “have aided and consoled me in ways that I hope you will never need to comprehend. I wish to return the favor. Luna for my Luna.”

She looked for a minute like she might refuse, but she must have seen how desperately he needed to do this for her. She took it in both her hands.

He wasn’t done repaying her just yet. He took a deep breath and tried to still his mind, to clear away the fear, the anger and the pain of the war and all it had cost. He held his hands out, stopping for a moment to allow her the opportunity to stop him. She didn’t. He gently placed his hands on each side of her face, his fingertips the last to make contact. He instantly felt something like electricity, like a jolt of power, a magnetic pull of magic that made it impossible for him to remove his hands, even if he tried, so shocked by this feeling, this emotion surging through him. 

For a moment he wondered if this was Luna had felt every time she had ever touched him in this way. It made the protection and strength he had always conjured when thinking of Luna make a lot more sense.

“Since the moment I met you to just last month, there has never been a full moon when I did not think of you and when that thought has not strengthened and calmed me. I don’t know what the days to come have in store for us, what the world becomes when the war is over, if it ever ends, but I want to offer back to you the gift you have given me so many times before. If, in the days that come, you ever find yourself scared, powerless or in danger, I want you to remember and gain strength from me. To hold on to this magic that courses through our bodies and makes itself known in the oddest of ways. To this connection, magical and real.

He ran his thumb to the corner of her eye and caught the tear that had spilled over her lid.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I will.”

She rested her forehead on his shoulder and he turned so they could sit side by side, his arm around her shoulder, her head still at his. They rode the train the rest of the way to Kings Cross Station in peaceful silence, each thinking their own thoughts.

As the train came to a stop and they made their way off it, there came a moment when he didn’t want to let her go, that he wanted to keep her safely beside him. But it passed. Her father was waiting anxiously on the other side of the magical barrier and she now looked anxious to join him, apparently having decompressed as she had wanted while silently curled into Remus’ side.

They hugged and said their goodbyes beside the train. As she walked away into the Muggle world beyond the barrier and onto her life, he prayed that his words and the magical bond they shared would see her through the war while simultaneously praying that they would not be needed, that she would remain as almost untouched by the horrors of this war as she seemed then.

“Happy Christmas Luna Lovegood,” he whispered to himself as she walked out of sight. “Be well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Elennare, thank you so very much for this request! In my long history of gift exchanges there have only been a handful of times when I had found a story I wanted to write before I even signed up and then kind-of, sort-of tailored my sign up so that there would be no other recipient I would be assigned to. I'm happy to say, this is the third time that it actually worked! I wanted to tell this story since the moment I read your letter, and I most definitely wanted to tell it to you, someone who obviously loves these characters as I do. <3 <3
> 
> And to Capitu and Redsnake05, thank you so very much for all your beta help and suggestions. All remaining mistakes are mine.


End file.
